


Wooden Box

by missing_alice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Loss of Virginity, M/M, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missing_alice/pseuds/missing_alice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has a gift for Castiel, but Castiel wants more than the little wooden box he holds in his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wooden Box

 

Dean always called ahead because Castiel was never keen on surprises. Especially on the days he had the chance just to relax, to not have to furrow his brow in frustration or confusion, or disappointment at the human race. The days were so few and far between, so he valued them so much in between all the chaos that surrounded him.  Castiel still struggled with the idea of a cell phone, his hands fumbling on the buttons of Sam’s old Blackberry.

Dean knocked the door. His hand growing sweaty on the wooden box he held. He was apprehensive as to what Cas’ reaction would be to the gift he had bought. Dean was far more sentimental than he would ever let on, even to Castiel, his best friend, the guy he had been through so much with.

Cas took in the image of Dean, standing on the porch in the cool low sunlight of late afternoon. More accustomed to seeing him dressed in jeans and shirt, his image took Cas a little by surprise as he realised he was dressed in a suit. Blue and hand tailored, fitted in all the right places, he could tell there was skill in the stitches, not off the rail like Sam always wore and his overcoat, not like Cas’ trench, but again crafted especially for Dean’s athletic body, his broad, muscular build.

Distracted, Cas didn’t notice the box until Dean handed it to him.

‘I got this for you.’ He smiled

Castiel took it, but instead of opening it, he merely placed it on the table by the door as Dean entered, the heavy wooden door clicking hard behind him.

‘You can open it now if you like. I know it’s not wrapped, but I thought.’ Dean paused for a moment.

‘Thank you, but you don’t have to buy me things. We are friends, your friendship means more to me than anything.’ Castiel told him.

‘Excuse me?’ Dean frowned, almost offended.

‘It’s not that, not that I am ungrateful, it’s just, you don’t need to give me gifts.’

Dean frowned again at his friend and loosened his tie, moving towards the cool box near the bed, filled with cans of beer.

‘You feeling okay Cas?’

‘Yes. I have been, thinking. Here, by myself, about myself, about you.’ Cas stood close to Dean as he pulled open the beer and took a swig.

‘About me?’ Dean almost laughed. ‘What have you been thinking?’

‘That I want something else, something other from you, something more.’

‘More? Like what?’ Dean took another swig of beer before putting it down on the nightstand.

Before Dean realised and certainly before he could protest, Castiel pulled him towards him a little, his soft strong hands on the lapels of Dean’s overcoat.

‘What are you doing?’ Dean frowned again, looking first at Cas’ hands on his coat then into his eyes.

Cas stared back, so deep inside him it felt as though he could see right into Dean’s soul and perhaps he could. Castiel moved closer still, though Dean seemed confused at the angel’s actions. They paused before he pushed his lips against Dean’s, instantly, without warning and perhaps against his better judgement, Dean’s tongue escaped his mouth, impulsively licking his friend’s lips. Their mouths moved against each other and Cas was keen to taste Dean’s tongue, the soft cushion of flesh slipping inside his mouth, knocking against the teeth of his vessel.

The more time Castiel had spent walking the Earth, the more like the humans that fascinated him, he had become. The same reactions, his senses dulled slightly, though his morals still intact, his heart. But the desire had crept in. The lust and panic of sexuality had become something new to him, perhaps his vessel was reacting, or maybe it was Cas himself, he wasn’t sure. Cas had seen the fate of his brothers who had lusted from the corners of Heaven over the human women, and men. But he didn’t care, Dean was all he could think about, for months now, the closeness of his friend, the companionship, the humour and the things he had taught him. But now, now he needed to let it go, the shyness, the fear, for Dean was worth being damned for.

 ‘Whoa! Hang on, stop.’ Dean stuttered, pulling away for a moment, his hands pressing on Cas’ chest. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m sorry.’ Cas stumbled over his apology, because he knew he wasn’t ‘I just, I can’t stop.’

Cas moved to push the coat over Dean’s shoulders and despite his initial protests, Dean didn’t stop him, the heavy blue material falling from his muscular arms and pooling at his feet in leather shoes, high shine, laced just right, the snow that had collected on the toes and soles still melting into the dark worn out carpet of the motel room. He undid the blue striped tie Dean always wore when pretended to be an FBI agent, his fingers slipping against the silk of it, skilful, he had undone his own so many times and perhaps, occasionally, he had allowed himself to imagine his own was Dean’s. Again, their mouths met, more furious this time, no protests, just the strong hungry feeling they had for each other, because although he had never admitted it, Dean felt the same, those days they spent together and the many they spent apart, Castiel was all that filled his mind, especially the days where he was absent, back in Heaven, fighting his wars, or just simply missing.

Dean found the kisses different, harder almost, though Castiel handled him gently. He breathed in the smell of Cas and enjoyed it, it seemed satisfying, a scent he could remember from somewhere else, another time, but couldn’t work out what it was exactly. Cas loved the flavour of Dean’s mouth, the faint hint of whiskey and the strong taste of beer.

Dean’s tie and shirt undone, he copied the actions of Cas, unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it down over his soft shoulders, his arms, Dean caught Cas’ hands in his own and their fingers intertwined, they paused for a moment, shirtless, their desires growing in their heads, their hearts and certainly they both noticed, in their trousers.

Castiel touched Dean’s shoulders, the curve of the muscles in his back, the soft indentation of his spine, which he traced first with his fingers, then with the tip of his tongue. Twisting their hands over each other, their mouths exploring one another’s torsos, they both needed more. Cas knelt down, knowing exactly what he wanted, needed, to do. He had seen it before, causing him to wonder what it would be like with Dean. He unbuckled the belt that sat snug against Dean’s stomach. Undoing his fly, he wanted to reach right down into his underwear and feel his cock, he could see it had grown hard with his actions, with the kisses and the touching he had inflicted on Dean.

Castiel held Dean’s cock in his hand, long and cut, he felt it throb for him and he knew instinctively what he wanted to do to remedy Dean’s erection. Dean sighed, unsure but willing; he wanted to feel what it would be like to have the angel’s mouth around him. Licking the shaft, Dean sighed heavier this time and Cas put it in his mouth, hard against his tongue, pushing against his teeth and down his throat. Dean reached out to grip the back of Cas’ hair, his fingers pressing against his head, pulling at Cas’ soft brown hair, cutely cut and boasting product he had lent him to style it just right, just enough away from the suited image he had that some may have thought bland. Harder and quicker, Cas worked Dean’s cock. Wet and fearsome, his tongue licked against it, his throat opening up to take it again and again and swelling over it to send ripples of pleasure right the way through his friend’s body.

Castiel enjoyed hearing Dean’s low moans and grunts, he liked the feeling of his cock in his mouth, he pushed his fingertips into Dean’s arse cheeks to push him further inside his throat, as far as he could take him, which surprised him a little. But Dean wanted to return the favour and though close to coming, he paused.

‘Cas.’ He said softly, almost whispering. ‘Cas, stop.’

Castiel did as he was told, as always, and stared up at Dean, his large blue eyes once again staring into the deep green of Dean’s own.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. Cas.’ Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, signalling him to stand. Again doing what he was told, little obedient soldier that he was.

Dean now fumbled on the belt that Cas wore, clawing hard and quickly, the angel’s skin soft beneath his fingers, his palms. He was surprised to find that he didn’t wear underwear beneath his borrowed suit trousers. Cas seemed surprised to see his own cock, or rather that of his vessels, standing to attention at the touch of his friend. Dean wrapped a hand around it causing a feeling that tore through Cas’ body hard and quick, a sensation he had never felt before, stunning and breath taking, so he let Dean continue for a while, his warm hand around him, his toes clawing into the carpet encouraging him to stand, though his knees were giving in.

Dean lay down on the less than comfortable bed behind him and Cas followed, his knees either side of his friend’s thighs. They kissed some more, finding their mouths once again on each other’s bodies. Shoes still on, Dean eventually kicked them off, both now naked in each other’s arms, bodies pressed against each other, hands in places they had only fantasised of before. They devoured the tastes and smells of each other, the way their noses knocked when they kissed, the gentle curves of each other’s bodies, they couldn’t get enough. Eventually, Cas flipped Dean so he could kiss his back once again, his mouth fixed in curves, his tongue sparking against the warm flesh, goose bumps and shivers dancing up and down Dean’s skin, ripping right the way through his senses.

Right there, Cas knew instinctively what he wanted to do, most of all. His tongue found its way down the cheeks of Dean’s perfectly rounded arse, the muscles in the tops of them rippling at his touch and Cas licked his hole just a little, making it wet so he could slip a finger inside him, just to loosen him up, then he slipped his long, cut cock inside him. Too deep at first, making Dean wince against the actions, Cas encouraged him to relax, to forget all the apprehension he had, to forget that he had fought against his own feelings for so long. He had wanted Castiel almost from the moment he met him. He adored the sweet vulnerability of his Heavenly friend, he hadn’t wanted to corrupt him, he had wanted to protect him. Dean had lied so many times about him being a brother to him, he was, in a way, but this wasn’t what brothers got up to, these were the actions of lovers and for all the times Cas had fantasised about Dean, Dean had fantasised about him. Sometimes alone, sometimes in the same room, sometimes when Cas wasn’t looking or realising.

And so Castiel fucked Dean, slow and tender at first, then faster, more furious as Dean became used to the feeling of his virgin arse being fucked by a virgin. Cas loved the feeling, he never knew he would be capable of such a strong sensation, such emotion. Eventually, he came, spilling himself out inside Dean, again the feeling so intense, causing him to be more aware of the sounds and smells around him, but letting them quickly fade as his breath began to slow, but the desire still ever present. Dean grunted, he gripped the sheets below him, his own cock hard and growing uncomfortable under their weight.

Castiel slipped out of Dean as he reached backwards for him. Cas lay beside him, totally spent, satisfied, his breathing laboured, but Dean still needed more. Now it was him that knelt over over Cas, he reached down and rubbed furiously at his own cock, hard and fast, Cas watching him, his hands touching the muscles in Dean’s arms as he did. Almost silently, other than a low grunt, his warm sticky cum pooled in the curve of Cas’ chest. Dean leaned closer, and kissed the clean areas of his chest and arms, they smiled as their mouths met again. Eventually, Dean found his tongue resting down on the cooling white of his own semen. Licking furiously at the mess he had made, he listened as Cas groaned at the sensation, knowing what he was doing, thinking how vile it would seem to anyone else, but to him, he didn’t care, the filthier Dean wanted to be, the more he would encourage him to be so.

For a while, they lay together, brief, almost embarrassed comments passed between them, until Dean decided he needed to shower, he knew Sam would be back soon. Castiel lay alone and he thought how it wasn’t the most perfect of places, that old motel room, but it reminded Cas of the first night he had watched Dean sleep and wondered about his dreams. And then he remembered that old wooden box Dean had handed him at the door, before all this, before they both let their guards down and gave into their fevered lust. Still naked, he padded barefoot to the door and reached for the box. The rusted steel clasp clicked away and Cas opened it up, curious to see what his friend had thought he would enjoy.  He realised it wasn’t a box, but rather a lidded display case of a collection of butterflies, their wings pinned back to show all their colour and craftsmanship, exposed but now trapped and void of flight. For a moment, Cas felt sad, he wanted to set them free, to let them fly but then he realised why it had made Dean think of him.


End file.
